


Like an Ache That Just Won't Fade

by Jimena



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Nott POV, Sort Of, healing magic is scary, special guest appearance by Nugget, spoilers through campaign 2 episode 32
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 19:35:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15870336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimena/pseuds/Jimena
Summary: Beau is hurt and homesick and doesn't deal with either of those things in the best way





	Like an Ache That Just Won't Fade

Nott breathed a sigh of relief as she sank into her chair at the inn they’d stopped at for the night. She sipped on her glass of whiskey as she glanced around at her companions. Everyone looked okay for the most part, though Caleb still seemed a bit shaken, and the grin on Beau’s face appeared more than a little strained even as she knocked back drinks and chatted briefly with Fjord. She still couldn’t tell what Caduceus was thinking, but he seemed alright from the way he was quizzically looking over the various glasses Jester had placed in front of him “for experimental purposes.”

Things could have gone better that day for sure.

Their already faint lead on their target had petered out to nothing but a dead end in the shape of a nest of trolls, trolls who had not taken kindly to having their meal disturbed.

Fjord had taken a heavy blow early, leaving him dazed and forcing Caduceus to keep most of his attention on him, even as one of the trolls raked into his back. Jester had had to split her attention between battling the troll in front of her and keeping her fellow healer up. Nott herself had managed to avoid injury for the most part, sticking to the periphery and firing bolts into any troll that looked distracted.

And distracted they’d been between Beau whirling from one target to the next, gamely trying to keep their attention on her while Caleb rained down fire from afar.

But they couldn’t keep that strategy up indefinitely with their healers otherwise occupied.

Beau had gone down twice and had seemed a bit shaky on her feet the second time Jester had managed to just bring her back up, though she’d waved off her friend’s concern and thrown herself right back into the fray, managing to take out the troll that had been doggedly menacing Caleb with a few well-placed strikes. She hadn’t been quick enough to completely dodge its death throes though, and she’d ended up with a nasty broken arm for her troubles, forcing Caleb to deal with the last troll...well, the way he usually did with its usual consequences.

So things could have gone better, but they could have gone a whole lot worse too. Nott counted it as a win in her books. No one had died, and they’d found some interesting trinkets in the trolls’ lair, enough to keep her occupied for a few days at least as she fiddled around with some of the rocks and the few vials of strange liquid.

She was already planning her next few days when a peal of childish laughter made Nott look up.

The innkeeper, an older half-elf by the look of him, clutched a toy arrow to his chest. “Ach! I am slain, and by my own daughter no less! How could you betray your dear father so?” he gurgled, collapsing dramatically behind the bar as his daughter giggled from her perch atop the counter. She stood to her full, diminutive height, brandishing her toy bow.

“You aren’t my father, but the great dragon Vorugal!”

“A dragon, eh? In that case…” He pulled himself up from the ground and slammed his hand down on the bar. “It will take more than one shot to kill me!” He grabbed his daughter and swung her down to the ground before tickling her mercilessly.

Nott grinned and returned to her cups. Caleb was watching the family’s interaction with a rare, soft smile on his face, finger marking his place in the book he’d started. Jester was busy drawing the scene in her sketchbook, her weasel poking his head out of the hood of her cloak to glare at Nott; apparently, he hadn’t forgotten her earlier attempt at a snack. Fjord and Caduceus were deep in conversation over one of the drinks Caduceus had tried; Nott wasn’t sure they’d even noticed the commotion. And Beau...was nowhere to be seen.

Nott poked her head up and scanned the bar, but there was no familiar raucous laughter or flash of blue anywhere. She even looked beneath the table, but the only things under there were Nugget, who was still happily chewing on the bone Jester had procured for him, and Frumpkin, who was lying only a few feet away and glaring at the blink dog balefully, tail lashing back and forth.

“Lookin’ for your friend?” the bartender, a dark-skinned human who Nott assumed was the innkeep’s wife, asked quietly as she refreshed the drinks at their table.

Nott nodded carefully. No one had made an issue of her being a goblin yet, but she hadn’t exactly made herself known either.

The woman inclined her head towards the front door. “Slipped outside a few minutes ago.” She winked. “But I didn’t tell you that.”

“Thanks,” Nott said as she jumped down off her chair. The woman just nodded as she finished clearing the empty glasses and made her way back to the bar, ruffling her daughter’s hair affectionately as she passed.

Nott made her way outside, careful not to disturb the others. She might not be able to see where Beau had gone, and she might not be able to track her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have other tricks up her sleeve. She pulled a forked twig from her pocket and thought of the goggles Beau always wore.

After a few moments of concentration, she felt a slight nudge in her mind pointing...up? That couldn’t be right. Nott shook the twig in her hands, wondering if the spell was working correctly.

An owl hooted loudly overhead.

“You already had your breakfast,” Beau’s voice drifted over the edge of the roof, “If you want more, you’re gonna have to hunt for it like a proper owl.”

Huh. Up it was. Nott stashed her stick away and looked around for a good place to climb.

“Hoo hoo!”

“Yeah, I know. Your life is so rough.”

There was a trellis of some kind leaned up against the back wall, and Nott clambered up it easily enough. She poked her head up over the edge of the roof.

“Hoo!”

“Fine, fine, but this is your last piece of jerky, alright? Because it’s my last piece of jerky. I hope you appreciate the sacrifices I make for you.”

Nott silently pulled herself up. Beau was sitting on the other side of the roof with her back against the chimney, one leg propped up as she took a drink from the wineskin that usually sat at her hip. Her owl was perched above her on top of the chimney, greedily tearing into the strip of dried meat clutched in its talons.

As Nott crept forward, the owl mantled and clicked its beak at her, head spinning around slowly to keep her in sight, but otherwise it made no move to abandon its hard-won jerky. Beau didn’t seem to notice as she took another drink.

“What are you doing up here?” Nott asked as she came up behind her.

Beau startled visibly, wineskin nearly fumbling from her grasp as she turned in surprise. “Shit, Nott, a little warning would be nice!”

Nott just grinned. “Gotcha good, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, got me good. Great job,” Beau grumbled, rolling her eyes as she patted her chest. “Nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack…”

Nott crouched down beside her, grabbing her own flask and taking a quick swig. “So?”

Beau glanced over. “So, what?”

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing up here?”

“Their wine here is shit,” Beau answered with a shrug that was a little too smooth to be casual. “Wanted something better.” She brandished her wineskin in a mock toast.

“Uh huh,” Nott said slowly, “And you couldn’t drink downstairs where it’s nice and warm?”

“Look, I don’t know if you’re bored or what, but can’t you go bother someone else?” Beau sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t exactly climb up here because I wanted company.”

“Well you’ve got some anyway, and you’re dodging the question,” Nott pointed out.

“So what if I am?” Beau said, a flash of irritation crossing her face. “I’m allowed to keep some things to myself.” She let her head fall back against the chimney behind her as she looked up at the sky and took a long swallow of wine.

Nott frowned and cocked her head to the side as Beau’s grip on the wineskin trembled. She was about to prod the human again when she finally gave a long-suffering sigh and spoke.

“Had an astronomy teacher back at the Cobalt Soul who used to say that if you could only see the stars, then you could always find your way home.”

Nott wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. “That sounds...nice,” she hazarded.

Beau snorted. “I punched him in the face my first week there. Thought they’d kick me out for that one, but they just sent me right back to class, and Master Goran just stood there with one black eye and set me to memorizing every single fucking constellation there is and their position at any given time of day and year.” She held up two fingers. “Both hemispheres.” She tilted her chin up toward a small jagged-looking cluster of stars to the east. “That one there is the Goblin’s Teeth.”

Nott looked up, squinting to try and see the pattern. “I didn’t know there were stars named after goblins.”

“There are stars named after all sorts of things,” Beau said. “The whole sky is mapped with stories.” She pointed to various spots in the night sky. “There’s the Crown. Every kid in the empire knows that one. Supposedly appeared when the first emperor took the throne, symbol of divine right and all that shit. There’s Lorthallen. It’s said she was once a great queen who fell into darkness and was trapped in the sky by powerful magics long ago. Bad things are said to happen when she’s on the rise...which she is now, _great_.” She hummed lightly. “Then there’s Karnos, the hunter, with his pack of dogs behind him.” Her fingers sketched a shaky line across a trail of stars. She winced and cleared her throat as she let her hand fall back to her side. She seemed almost embarrassed. “Anyway, that’s just a few of them.”

“Goblins don’t have anything like that,” Nott said quietly. “Stars are just lights up in the sky. I never learned any constellations or stories.” She paused, thinking back. “Maybe Caleb knows some? He used to spend a lot of time looking up at them back when we first started traveling together.”

“Probably,” Beau said. “Most people know at least a couple. Like Arcturos, the great bear.” She nodded directly up above them. “His eye always points north.” Her voice turned gruff, like she was quoting someone. “You find him; you find home.” She shook her head, voice returning to normal. “At least in the northern hemisphere. The south has their own shit to follow.”

“Do you miss it?” Nott asked suddenly after a long moment of companionable silence.

“Miss what?” Beau said, looking down at her in confusion. “Stars?” She waved one arm, her other arm, Nott noted, the one not curled almost protectively into her side now. “They’re right there, bit hard to miss.”

Nott shook her head, suspicion growing. “Not the stars. Home.”

Beau snorted and looked away a bit too quickly. “Can’t miss something you hated.”

“Sure you can,” Nott said easily. “I hate being a goblin, but sometimes even I miss being able to talk about normal stuff like killing things and eating babies without people making the face you’re making right now.”

“Sorry,” Beau muttered, glancing back up at the stars. Nott let it go with a shrug. She was more than used to it by now.

Beau let out a long breath that misted in the cool night air. “I miss...what it could have been, maybe,” she said finally, quietly, “not what it was.” She dropped her gaze and glared at the wineskin in her hands. “I might be a little drunk; that didn’t make any sense.”

“I think I get it.”

“Yeah?” Beau took another long swallow of wine. “My family wasn't anything like the one downstairs, all happy and shit. Don’t get me wrong; my parents aren’t bad people or anything like that. Hell, they’d probably have been great parents to someone else.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Anyone else, really.” She picked up a loose piece of brick from the chimney and sent it sailing into the night with a wince. “Instead they just got me.”

Nott frowned. There wasn’t any anger or bitterness in Beau’s voice, just...resignation, and that didn’t sit well with her at all. Beau wasn’t the type to be resigned to anything, throwing herself into battle after battle as if she thought she could stop creatures three times her size through sheer will and grit alone, and she did...most of the time. But now?

“Well, for what it’s worth, we like you just the way you are, prickly bits and all,” Nott said firmly, and was a bit surprised to find she meant it.

Beau barked out a hollow laugh. “Well, you’d be the first.” She took a quick drink. “But thanks,” she said quietly, so quietly that Nott almost didn’t catch it. Beau held out her wineskin with a hand that shook slightly. “Wanna kill it? Not much left, and I'm not really planning on getting more.”

Nott cocked her head to the side, ignoring Beau’s questioning noise as she pushed the wine aside. “How’s your arm?” she said instead. Nott could still hear the sickening crack it’d made when the troll had collapsed on her instead of Caleb as she’d shoved him out of the way. Jester had healed it of course, and it hadn’t seemed to be bothering her at all downstairs, but now Nott was wondering just how much of that had been an act as she watched Beau’s arm shudder slightly under the weight of nothing more than a small bit of wine.

Beau paused and glanced at her arm as if she’d just noticed it. “Oh, that,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.” She took a deep breath and let it out, and her hand stilled. She slanted a glance sideways. “See? I can still fight if we need to. It’s not gonna be a liability or anything.”

Nott shook her head in exasperation. She could see why she and Caleb got along so well; they both tended to take others’ concern for their well-being with a sort of wary confusion, even after all they’d been through together. If they wanted to hide their care behind deals and mutual aid agreements, well, maybe that worked for them, but she wasn’t about to let it go unchallenged. “That isn’t what I asked.”

Beau stayed silent so long that Nott thought she might have finally pushed the monk back into a stubborn silence when she finally spoke. “It aches,” she said in a too quiet voice, holding her arm out in front of her as she forced her fingers into a loose fist. Nott could see it shaking quite badly now that she wasn’t making any effort to suppress it. “Jester fixed it up good as new, but it’s like my mind thinks it should still be broken, so it still...hurts.” She let her arm fall to her side with a sigh and a quick shake of her head. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix though.”

“Will it?” Nott tended to stay as far away from the fighting as possible, all the better to flit in and out of the shadows and keep an eye on Caleb at the same time. But that meant she didn’t often require much in the way of healing, and the few times she had, well, there’d been more pressing matters on her mind than any lingering aches and pains.

Beau hesitated. “Maybe a few nights,” she allowed. She knocked her fist against the top of Nott’s head. “But like I said, don’t worry about it. I’m used to it by now.”

_You shouldn’t have to be_ , Nott thought, but she kept her thoughts to herself. She made a mental note to check on Caleb more often. If Beau was still hurting after getting patched up after fights, then odds were Caleb was as well, and doing just as good a job keeping it from her, from all of them.

There was a brief flash of light, and suddenly there was a wriggling puppy in Beau’s lap. She startled, before gently grabbing Nugget by the scruff so he wouldn’t wiggle right off the roof. “Hey, buddy,” she said, voice going soft in a way it rarely ever did, and Nott was forcibly reminded of just how young she was. She made another note to talk to Jester and Caduceus at some point too, surreptitiously of course. Between the two of them, they should be able to come up with something better than the current situation.

“The roof really isn’t a good place for you to be,” Beau continued, holding Nugget under her good arm as she got to her feet. “How about we get you down before Jester starts to worry about you, yeah?”

At the word ‘down’ Nugget yipped and blinked out of existence, only to reappear 5 feet away, 3 feet past the edge of the roof.

“Oh shit!” Beau swore, diving after him without a second thought as he began to plummet with a yelp.

Nott heard a thud and scrambled to the edge of the roof. “Are you alright?” she called down to where Beau was gingerly uncurling herself from around the puppy who shot to his feet with an excited bark and began racing in circles around her.

Beau waved one hand before flopping onto her back “Yeah, just...think I’m gonna lay here for awhile...ow.”

“I’ll be right down!” Nott quickly made her way back across the roof and down the trellis.

_Nott?_ Caleb’s voice rang in her head suddenly, a worried tinge to his voice. _Are you alright? Is Beauregard with you? You both disappeared._

“We’re fine,” Nott reassured him, responding to the message as she rounded the corner of the inn. “Beau just fell off the roof.”

“Didn’t fall,” Beau muttered from where she was lying on the ground. “Jumped. They’re very different things.” She scratched behind Nugget’s ears as he tried to lick her face. “Isn’t that right, bud?”

Nott rolled her eyes.

_The roof? Why were you--Ah, I see. The dog._ Nott looked up to see Frumpkin peering down at them from the edge of the roof where they’d just been. _I will fetch Jester._

“Caleb is bringing Jester,” Nott announced, sitting cross-legged beside Beau’s head.

“Cool, cool,” Beau said absently. “Hey, Nott?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think roofs and alcohol go well together.”

Nott couldn’t help herself; she let out a laugh. “Or blink dogs.”

“Or blink dogs,” Beau repeated with a grin, the first real one she’d worn all night. She patted the offending party on the head as he grabbed the end of her sash and began a one-sided game of tug of war. Seeing Beau’s smile, Nott decided that maybe she wouldn’t eat him after all, or at least not tonight. Tomorrow was still up in the air.

Beau interrupted her thoughts of a nice juicy meal. “Nott?”

“Hmmm?”

“Thanks.”

Nott patted her shoulder. “Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> What I should be writing about: developmental morphology of grasses and how it relates to grazing resistance  
> What I'm writing instead: fictional characters dealing with complicated fictional feelings
> 
> Yay priorities
> 
> Anyways, hope ya'll enjoyed!


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